


It's About Time

by 5her1ock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baking, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Gen, John Winchester Tries, M/M, Meet-Cute, Shy Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24763933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5her1ock/pseuds/5her1ock
Summary: It's just an ordinary day working the family business for Dean, until a customer looking for a new clock wanders into the store.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. Clocks

**Author's Note:**

> So this was the first fanfic I ever wrote a couple of years ago, I posted it and then took it down because I ran out of ideas, but I wanted to post it again and hopefully continue and finish it.

Dean hated clocks. Today especially, he was irritated by the incessant tick, tick, tick, that emanated from dozens of the circular objects on the walls surrounding him.

The shop was eerily empty today, and the sky was a melancholy grey that seemed to cast a shadow on the whole town. Dean didn't mind the quiet, or the fact that the shop was probably colder than the outside air. What bothered him was that he recently realized how he'd unintentionally signed up to take on the family business.

A week prior, Dean hadn't given any thought to what he wanted to do with his future, he'd always sort of pictured himself exploring the world, landing in a big city, maybe settling down eventually and having a couple of kids. Being only 27, he figured he'd have plenty of time in the future to pursue these dreams.

But then his brother Sammy got married. Of course he was happy for his brother, so happy he shed a tear after they said their vows. Sam loved Jess with all his heart. The two of them made the perfect couple, and Dean could see great things down the road for them in the future.

After the wedding, though, Dean began to realize that Sam's marriage was the beginning of a new era. And that, since Sam announced a few days ago that he's moving upstate, he's not going to see him much anymore. Dean knows how hard this is going to be, because his brother already left him once to go to Stanford, and now he's heading back to go to law school, and residing permanently this time.

So now he sits, on a gloomy Saturday afternoon, holding down the family shop so his dad can help Sam pack up the remainder of his things from their childhood home. He's slumped behind a dusty counter, next to a cash register that needed to be upgraded a generation ago. He aimlessly plays with a few of the trinkets before him, just trying to kill time. It's not unusual to have no customers over the span of a few hours, especially on a day like this one. He decides it is unlikely there will be anyone entering the shop anytime soon, so he goes to the back in search of something to entertain himself.

He wanders about until he reaches a wall of books about as tall as he is, all of which look as if they've passed through multiple hands. He selects a tattered copy of The Shining and meanders back over to his slightly uncomfortable chair behind the counter.

He sighs loudly, as no one is there to hear him. He knows that, since he is practically the only one who runs this shop, he is pretty much destined to work here for at least the next decade. He hasn't the money to travel, nor can he leave his dad all alone to run the shop.

So here he sits.

At least there's plenty of books.

Da-Ding Ding. The bell attached to the door wakes Dean from his almost comatose reading trance. He peers over the edge of his book, lingering just a little bit too long before interjecting monotonously, "Good afternoon, how can I help you?"

The customer, blinking a couple of times to compensate for the sudden decrease in lighting inside the shop, replies shyly, "I'm just browsing."

"Okay, well let me know if you have any questions," Dean's words sound rehearsed, probably because he's said the same thing to so many customers so many times before.

"I will," the stranger doesn't look at Dean when he responds, he speaks directly to the floor, and then shuffles to the side of the shop.

Dean watches him curiously, for lack of anything better to do. The stranger has this mysterious air about him, and his blue tie stands out among the assortment of browns and beiges in the store. Dean pretends to read, but continues to watch the brown-haired, trench-coated man out of his peripheral vision. He notices the man continually glancing in his direction. He looks nervous or maybe even guilty, like he is trying to steal something but he's so obvious he's just giving himself away. D

Dean accidentally chuckles once out loud. The man immediately whips his head around at the sudden noise.

"Funny part in the book," Dean comes up with a quick excuse and a half smile.

The man nods and continues to browse, then he finally approaches the register with one of the clocks that was driving Dean crazy a few hours before.

"This is a nice clock, but I must warn you, if your house is quiet the noise might keep you up at night."

"Oh," the brown-haired man looks down at the counter, "which one would you recommend?"

"That one... right there" Dean leans over the counter to point at an oval clock across the shop.

The man grabs it off the wall and returns with it, checking the back for the price as he approaches.

"You would have to put the thing right next to your ear to even hear it tick at all," Dean explains, "also, I like it because it's more subtle, and that auburn-brown color on the rim looks really nice."

"I'll take it," replies the customer.

"We have it in other colors as well if you don't like this one... if you want to see some," he adds.

"No, this one is the one that I want," he assures Dean.

"Alright, that'll be thirty-seven dollars and eighty cents"

The man hands Dean a credit card.

"Sorry, we only take cash."

"Oh, sorry," he begins to clumsily fumble around for enough money to pay Dean. He pulls out some crumpled bills from his back pocket, and roots around in his trench coat for change, "I only have thirty-five fifty."

Dean sees the man's eyes for the first time as he raises his head to look straight at him. They are a crystal blue, which Dean now realizes almost matches the man's tie. They are a shade or two lighter though, and are much more intricate than the monochrome tie. They are like a spiderweb of many interconnected shades of blue, fitting perfectly together to create a glossy, shining, almost glow. Dean then observes the rest of his face. It is quite serious, almost concerned, looking at Dean with a childlike gaze, trying to anticipate what he'd say next.

"That's fine," Dean replies nonchalantly, beginning to reach for the money.

"Are you sure? I can come back tomorrow," the man assures.

"Nah, don't worry about it!" Dean insists, a little too much enthusiasm in his voice.

"Thank you," the man replies, his lip twitching slightly, forming something resembling a smile.

"Have a nice day," Dean watches the man as he exits the shop.

Dean let the sight of the stranger linger in his mind for a few moments, wishing he'd asked for the man's name, but returned to his book, realizing that it was not likely he'd ever see the man again.


	2. Debt Paid

It's now Sunday, and Dean still hasn't heard from his dad. He starts to become a little bit concerned, because his dad and Sam have never lasted this much time in a confined space without having an argument of some sort. He has tried calling his dad three times this morning, but all of them have just gone straight to voicemail.

If Dean weren't, well, Dean, he would attribute the radio silence to what it probably was: John and Sam having a pleasant evening that resulted in a few too many beers leading to John turning off his phone so that it wouldn't wake him up in the morning. After all, it was only 10:00.

Dean decided to try calling just one more time for good measure.

"Hello?" A very deep voice answered, half-asleep.

"Dad?" Dean asked, trying not to let his concern show through.

"Dean? Is there some sort of trouble at the shop?"

"No. I was just... um... you were supposed to call me when you got home last night, and you didn't, so I just wanted to... you know... make sure you got home..."

"Actually, I ended up staying at Sammy's last night. Had a really good conversation that ended up lasting longer than I intended, so he offered to let me bunk at his apartment for the night. I'm headed out real soon though, you sure there's no trouble at the shop?"

"None at all. In fact I'm walking through the door right now," Dean let the phone rest between his ear and his shoulder while he flipped the sign on the door from 'closed' to 'open.'

"Oh good. Would you mind taking over for the day? I'm a little bit tired from packing yesterday, and I could use a day to catch up on some other stuff."

"Yeah, I can do that," Dean assured, trying his best not to sound burdened.

"Alright, see you later, bye Dean," John hung up before Dean could respond.

After a minute of fiddling with figurines Dean decided to text Sam before he headed up to his new place of residence.

[Dean:] Hey Sammy! Glad to hear you and Dad made it through a whole day without any fatalities.

Sam responded within seconds of receiving the text.

[Sam:] Oh hey Dean! Yeah it was actually nice to have him over yesterday, he really helped me and Jess a lot! Loading the last of the boxes in the car right now, taking off in just a little while.

[Dean:] Have a safe trip! I'm not going to say goodbye because I don't want you to think you're getting rid of me! I'll be up there in two months from now to check in and see how your new life is going.

[Sam:] Did I say anything about getting rid of you?! Never! I expect you to come often, and I will try to come down as much as I can, but my schedule is going to be a bit busier now... Thank goodness we live in an age where we can text so I can check in on all of the exciting things happening in your life.

[Dean:] Thank goodness!

And with that, Dean ceased texting Sam, and turned to the book he began reading the previous day. He had barely read a whole sentence when he heard the da-ding ding of the doorbell.

"Well hello again!" Dean said sarcastically, as the serious, slightly awkward, yet incredibly handsome man from the day before shuffled through the door.

"Hi... um... I... uh..." he appeared even more uncomfortable than the day before, if that was even possible, "I wanted to give you the rest of the money I owed you from yesterday."

He approached the counter and dropped a handful of coins in front of Dean, totaling the exact amount he'd owed the previous day.

"I told you not to worry about it," Dean chuckled, his smile stretching all the way to his noticeably green eyes.

"Well you don't know me well, but 'not worrying about it' is not really in my personality description."

The man looks up into Dean’s eyes, still not showing the slightest hint of a smile.

"Well, consider your debt paid."

The man nodded and walked out.


	3. Dinner

By the end of the day, Dean had finished his book. He was a fast reader, and only about a half-dozen people had come into the shop that day, so he had ample time to finish it. Nothing else on the bookshelf looked particularly interesting, so for the remainder of the day he went about reorganizing the shop, and giving it the dusting it desperately needed.

Finally closing time arrived, and Dean flicked off the lights, wandered out the door, and made sure the shop was locked. Then came his favorite part of every day: driving home in his Impala, his Baby. It was just as dreary a Sunday as it had been a Friday and Saturday, but that didn't stop Dean from rolling his windows all the way down and letting the cold air swarm around him. Nobody was ever on the road this time of night, because the Winchester family shop was one of the last in the town to close for the day.

Dean took the long way home, as he did most days, speeding all the way to his apartment across town. His dad had tried to convince him to rent somewhere closer to the store, but Dean couldn't afford anything near the shop. He preferred the extra time he got to spend on the road anyways.

He pulled into his parking space, the subtle sounds of birds and crickets no match for the fearless roar Baby made as she paraded into her bed for the night. Dean flicked off the engine and trekked up the stairs, thinking all the while about his little brother, about his own future. He didn't let his mind wander too far, because no matter how much he dreamed, he had a responsibility to his dad and to the family business.

Upon reaching the door, Dean fumbled for his keys and headed straight for the fridge. He was famished. He opened the door, and to his dismay, found no food. In the midst of covering for his dad, he had forgotten to go shopping this weekend. Frustrated, Dean headed back outside and went down to his car.

There were very few places that would be open at this hour. Fortunately, this was not the first time Dean had forgotten to make a trip to the grocery store. Pulling Baby out of her slumber, he began to drive toward his favorite bar and burger joint in town: The Roadhouse.

When he arrived, he was greeted with a big smile from the owner, Ellen, who almost seemed to live at The Roadhouse.

“Hey sweetie!” She yelled from behind the bar.

Dean waved and found a stool a little ways away from where she was standing. There was hardly anywhere to sit, so he plopped himself down near the end of the bar next to a party of three having a lively conversation, and a man whose body language suggested he wasn't in the mood to chat. At this time of night, the place was always crowded. Dean didn't mind the noise that much, it was a nice change from the piercing silence of the shop. He began to eavesdrop on the group to his left as he pretended to scan over the menu in front of him. They were debating over some sports game that had taken place earlier in the day, but before Dean could determine which sport, he felt someone walk up to him.

“Dean, there's no use looking over the menu, you come here at least once a week and your order never changes, now unless you're having something other than a beer and a bacon cheeseburger, I'll take that menu from you.”

“Thanks, Ellen,” Dean chuckled.

“I'd love to sit and chat, but as you can see we're a little busy tonight, should be slowin' down by next week, summer's almost over so people will be vacationin' a lot less.”

With that she turned around and vanished into the kitchen. Dean sat for a little while, not entirely sure what to do while he waited for his food. Usually he brought a book. Or some paperwork. When the place was slow he'd sit and talk with Ellen or her daughter Jo, who worked there sometimes. Today, he had brought nothing, there was no book he was in the middle of, he had no paperwork because he had done it already. So he just sat. He sat and thought, he even let himself dream a little.

All of a sudden a voice came from his right.

“Hi, um...” The voice barely caught his attention over the chatter of the room, it was deep but soft. Dean looked over, as he was trying to decide what to say next, and realized it was the man with the blue eyes who'd bought the clock from him.

“Oh! Hi!” Dean realized that his enthusiasm may have been a bit overboard, because the man noticeably twitched at his response. He quickly tried to make him feel a little more at ease, “It's nice to see you again. How are you liking the clock you bought?”

“It's, uh, it's really nice. I put it in my living room. Can't hear it at all.”

“Good, that's good,” Dean looked directly into the man's blue eyes, which shined so much brighter now that they were somewhere decently lit, “I don't think I caught your name the other day.”

“Castiel.”

“Castiel? That's unique, is it a family name?”

“No, I don't really know where it came from, all of my siblings have normal names, I have two older brothers named Michael and Gabriel, and a younger sister named Lucie. I guess my sister's name is kind of weird, because it's spelled L-U-C-I-E, but I'm- I'm not sure why I'm telling you this,” his cheeks turned bright red against his pale skin, “I usually don't... I, um...”

“That's ok,” Dean cut him off chuckling a little, “My name's Dean, kind of an ordinary name, I know. Not nearly as cool as Castiel.”

With that comment, Dean had made Castiel smile for the first time since they'd met a couple days before. His smile was small and lasted only a few seconds, but it was clearly there. Dean was glad to have made him a little more comfortable.

“I have to go,” Castiel interjected rather suddenly, “I will probably see you again though, at your store later this week. I have to get some, um... records, yeah, records. For a friend. For their birthday.”

“Alright,” Dean couldn't help but grin at how cute this guy was when he was nervous, “see ya later.”

And with that the blue-eyed man walked out the door.


	4. Day Off

It wasn’t long after Castiel left that Dean’s food came. 

“You guys would make a cute couple,” Ellen’s voice was playful as she handed him his plate, “I’ve seen him around here more than a few times, sweet guy, kinda shy, always overtips.”

“Thanks Ellen,” Dean commented nervously, “seems nice but something about him, I want to ask him out, but... I don’t know… I just get so nervous…”

“That’s called attraction honey. I’ve seen you ask out tons of guys and gals in here, none of ‘em were relationship material. What scares you about this one is the commitment. Now I gotta business to run, but don’t be a stranger, come back durin’ the week when this place slows down so we can have a proper conversation.”

“I will, thanks for the burger, and the unsolicited advice.” He grinned at her, and she winked in return before striding back toward the kitchen. 

Dean began to eat, letting his mind think of all the ways he could possibly go about asking this mysterious Castiel out on a date. He couldn’t help but smile to himself stupidly while chowing down on his burger, causing a few uncertain glances to be cast his direction from patrons on both sides of him. He didn’t care.

When Dean was done with his food, he paid his bill, left a generous tip, and all but floated out of The Roadhouse. Then, almost the second he jumped in his car, his phone rang.

“Hello?” Dean answered, wondering who could possibly be calling at this hour.

“Dean?” A gruff voice on the other end replied.

“Oh, hey Dad.”

“Hey, thanks for looking out for the shop for me this weekend.”

“No problem.”

“So I was thinking, you should take the day off tomorrow.”

“Why? I always work Mondays. And you always work uncle Bobby’s garage on Mondays.”

“Uh, yeah, usually I do, but I explained to Bobby that you needed a day off ‘cause you’ve been workin’ over a week straight, and we just moved around my schedule a   
little bit so that you could have tomorrow off.”

“Oh ok, uh, thanks Dad.”

“No problem,” and with that the phone call ended.

Dean chuckled a little about how unemotional his dad was. At this point in his life, he knew better than to try and tell his dad he loved him. He knew his dad loved him, there was just kind of an unspoken understanding that neither of them would say it out loud. 

Dean started up his car, his mind drifting away from his father and back to the blue-eyed man he talked to before. He decided a few moments later, though, not to let himself think about him too much in case he never saw him again. Instead, he decided to think about what he was going to do with his day off. It didn’t take long, though, because he already knew exactly what he planned to spend the day doing—baking!

Other than driving around in and fixing his car, baking was Dean’s favorite hobby. If he wasn’t responsible for the family business, Dean would buy his own bakery in a heartbeat. Not that he had the money for it.

Dean spent his morning off shopping for baking supplies and food to stock his kitchen. He hadn’t realized how low he was on, well, everything in his pantry and refrigerator. As soon as he got home, he made himself a quick omelet for breakfast, and then set right to work on several different projects. 

Dean had no idea what he was going to do with everything he made, because he didn’t really have any friends outside of his family to bake for. He had Ellen and Jo, but he never really hung out with them outside the roadhouse, and they fit more in the scope of family than friends. Dean never really let himself think about anything while he was baking though, his mind was only focused on making sure that he did everything to make his creations just right, changing the recipe here and there where he saw fit, sometimes even writing his own recipes because the original ones just weren’t good enough. 

He spent hours hauled up in his apartment, resulting in two cakes, five batches of cookies (two of which he almost tossed because they “weren’t quite right”), and some sugar-free brownies he made specially for his dad. 

Satisfied with his day’s work, he went to bed after carefully packaging all of his treats and storing them neatly in his fridge.


	5. Meeting Again

The next day, Dean prepared to go to work as usual. Grabbing three of the batches of cookies and the brownies he’d made the day prior, he waltzed out the door and down to his car. He set the cookies gently on the passenger seat and breathed in the sound of his car as he turned on the engine. Then off to work he went.

When he arrived at the shop, Dean was surprised to see his dad had made it there before him. 

“Morning Dad,” he greeted as he entered the building, “made some cookies yesterday, mind if I set them on the counter for the customers.”

“Sure,” John Winchester replied, using his remarkable talent of expressing an entire thought with one word.

“I also made these for you,” Dean handed his father a Tupperware container with brownies inside.

“Thanks,” his dad replied, with as much enthusiasm and acknowledgement as one could possibly hope to gain on an average day from the man.

“No problem,” Dean went about displaying the cookies he made by the register, placing little labels he made out of folded paper in front of each batch. 

Both of the Winchester men then went about their daily jobs, exchanging a few words here and there, but nothing that by normal standards could be considered a conversation. A handful of customers strolled in and out. 

One woman came in with two small children who were overjoyed when Dean offered them the dessert sitting before him. The younger of the two smiled so widely when he couldn’t choose whether he wanted a chocolate chip or a peanut butter cookie, and Dean grabbed one of each with a napkin and handed it to him (after checking with his mom of course). This caused the older sibling to declare that he wanted a second raisin cookie because his little brother got two. Dean chuckled and gladly fulfilled his request. 

A handful more people appeared in the shop after that—two of which came specifically for the cookies, and ended up leaving with merchandise. 

Dean was always glad to see how his baking often improved people’s days, even if it was just a little bit. Dean’s chipper demeanour following an entire baking day probably also played into brightening his customers’ days, but he’d never give himself the credit. 

Several hours went by, and as per usual on any given day, there was a lull.

“I’m goin’ out for a bit,” Dean heard a voice call from the opposite side of the store, “be back before close.”

“Okay,” he acknowledged before his dad walked out the door.

Dean was more than used to running the store by himself. He figured there’d probably be no more customers for the day, since they’d already had more customers that morning than most days. He began his usual almost-closing-time chores, so he would have a few less things to do before he left that night, maybe he could even close a little early. 

When he finished everything he wanted to do, he decided to rearrange his cookie plates for lack of anything more intriguing to do. 

Suddenly, the bell above the door rang. At first Dean didn’t look up at his customer, still preoccupied with his baked goods. 

As the customer shuffled in, Dean felt a familiar presence.

“Hello Castiel,” he smiled at his returning customer. 

“Um, hello Dean,” he replied, causing a smile to spread across Dean’s face that the man remembered his name. He quickly let it recede a bit, determined not to come across as too eager. 

“So,” Dean was determined to play it as cool as possible. Something he was usually good at, but for some reason he just couldn’t with this one, “um, whatcha here for?” 

“I have to um, get a, uh, a gift for, um, a friend”

“Oh yeah, records right?”

“Yes. Right. Records.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, we’ve got all the greats… the Beatles, Kansas, you name it we’ve probably got it.”

“My friend collects Beatles records I believe. They were looking for, um what was it, please something?”

“Please Please Me?” Dean offered.

“Yes, that one!” A small glint somehow appeared in Castiel’s eyes even in the dull lights of the shop.

“Alright, bring it up to the register and I’ll meet you up there.”

Dean watched Castiel head towards the register and Dean went into the back room to grab a bag, and to write something really quickly on a slip of paper. Within minutes, he appeared again at the register. 

“Would you like a cookie?” Dean offered as he scanned the record.

“Sure… thanks.”

“I’d recommend the chocolate chip ones, the other two batches didn’t really turn out the way I wanted them to,” He began to explain as Castiel reached for the cookie.

“Alright,” he took a chocolate chip cookie and bit into it, “oh my gosh, this is incredible!” 

“Thanks,” Dean chuckled modestly.

“No, seriously, this is amazing!”

Dean just laughed, delighted at the satisfied expression of Castiel’s face. He decided this was definitely someone he needed to get to know better.

A few more words were exchanged between the two, and soon the transaction was complete, with Castiel walking toward the door. He carried with him his bag— containing one Beatles’ record, a receipt, and a note written in deans messy handwriting:

“Would you like to go out sometime, on a date I mean… my number is 555-3326.”


	6. A Text

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s been a bit since I last posted, life got a bit hectic but I’ll try to post more often now that things are calmer.

When Dean got home, he felt more nervous than he had in a long time. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that this Castiel would even contact him. He put himself out there and that was enough. Right?

He couldn’t help but think about him for the rest of the day. Had he seen the note yet? Did Dean scare him away? Did Castiel put the note right in the trash? 

After eating a small meal Dean lay awake on his bed, waiting, wondering if he would receive a text. He told himself that he wasn’t necessarily waiting for the phone to ring, he was just resting after a long days’ work, and therefore didn’t need to occupy himself with anything that would also happen to take his attention away from his phone. 

When Dean was just about to get up to turn off his light, his phone buzzed. He quickly snatched it off the table next to him to see if he texted. 

“Oh, just Sammy,” he muttered to nobody but himself. He opened the text.

[Sam] Hey Dean

[Dean] Hey Sammy, what’s up?

[Sam] Dude when are you going to stop calling me that?

[Dean] Uh, let me think, never. What’s up?

[Sam] Nothing much, just checking in to see how everything’s going with you and Dad at the shop.

[Dean] Great. Nothin’ much to report, business is slow as usual…

[Sam] Okay... anything new with you?

[Dean] No. Why do you ask?

[Sam] Because you’re my brother… geez why so defensive is there something you’re trying to hide from me?

[Dean] No, not at all. Shouldn’t you be writing a paper or something, why are you texting me on a night you should be studying?

[Sam] I finished my paper this afternoon, and since you changed the subject, I know there’s definitely something you’re not telling me.

[Dean] Why of all professions did you have to become a lawyer… it makes it freakin impossible to lie to you.

[Sam] Out with it Dean

[Dean] Okay! I met someone… I mean we haven’t actually gone out but, I don’t know… I think this one has a lot of poetential to be something great... 

[Sam] What’s his name?

[Dean] What? How did you…

[Sam] Dean, again, you’re my brother, I know you better than anyone else in the world. I’ve known you were bi for a while, but specifically I could tell by the way you were avoiding specific pronouns. Besides if Ellen and Jo know why can’t I? I’ve been waiting for you to tell me, and honestly I’m a little hurt that you didn’t feel like you could.

[Dean] Oh… Well, I wanted to tell you, I really did, but to tell you the truth I’ve never really told anyone, Ellen kinda figured it out on her own, and then she told Jo… so. His name is Castiel by the way. 

[Sam] That’s okay Dean, I just want you to know that you can tell me anything, okay? And Castiel? That’s a very unique name, is he cute?

[Dean] Thanks Sammy. Yes he’s very cute, and has the most gorgeous blue eyes you’ve ever seen.

[Sam] Well, I really hope it works out for you, have you asked him out yet?

[Dean] Yes. Well kind of.

[Sam] Kind of?

[Dean] He came into the shop today, and I slipped a note in his bag…

[Sam] That’s adorable! Haha

[Dean] Shut up Sammy, I was too afraid to actually ask him, which has never happened before.

[Sam] Well, give him a little bit of time before you freak out that he’s not responding. It may be a little while before he even gets the note.

[Dean] Yeah you’re probably right…

All of a sudden when Dean checked his phone for what he thought was Sam’s reply, another message shown on the screen.

[Unknown] Hello. This is Castiel.

Dean quickly switched back over to his conversation with his brother and hurried him a message.

[Dean] Gtg he just texted me!!!

[Sam] Good luck!

About thirty responses raced through Dean’s mind before he finally chose the one he felt was the most casual.

[Dean] Hello Castiel, I’m glad you texted.


	7. A Date

A date. Dean Winchester was going on an actual date with Castiel… he never actually asked for his last name. He’d have to ask.

It was a particularly warm Friday night, the perfect temperature for outdoor dining. Dean couldn’t contain his excitement, racing around his house getting ready, continually straightening his tie just one more time, checking the clock every five minutes. Finally it was time for him to leave. He paced back and forth a few times before working up the courage to exit his apartment. He fumbled a bit with his keys as he tried to lock the door behind him, but soon he was floating down the stairs to his car. 

He smiled at his newly washed and waxed Baby, as she chirped a welcome in response. He swung open the door, plopped himself down, inhaled deeply, and prepared to go pick up his date. 

Castiel didn’t live very far from him, in fact he lived no more than two miles from him. Heart racing, Dean pulled up close to Castiel’s driveway, taking in the neighbourhood. It was a relatively nice neighbourhood, everyone’s lawns were decorative and well-kept, the houses far from needing a new paint job. 

Castiel lived in a greyish-blue house on the far end of his street with a garden superior to that of all his neighbors. He had a broad selection of vibrant flowers lining his walkway, which was a dirt path with stone slabs leading up to his entryway.

Dean glanced once more to a paper sitting in his palm, to confirm he was at the right address. He then shoved it in a cup holder in his door and proceeded towards the house. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. The door opened slowly.

“Hey Cas...tiel, Hey Castiel.”

“Hey D-Dean.”

They both smiled to make the moment a little less awkward. 

“You look nice,” Dean commented. He really did. Dean had told him to dress semi-formally, and that he did. He had on a black suit with a blue tie which was much more subtle than the one he was wearing when Dean met him, but it contrasted his eyes in such a way that it made them stand out more if that was even possible.

“Thanks,” Castiel replied, meeting Deans gaze, then shifting his own to the ground. 

“You ready to go?” Dean asked, unable to contain his smile.

“Yes, and um, you look really nice too… by the way,” he seemed to physically stiffen a little bit at his own lack of subtlety.

Dean tried to help him out a little bit by starting a new conversation, “Thanks! The weather out tonight is just perfect don’t you think?”

“Yes, I’d say it is,” Castiel now seemed a bit more at ease, and Dean lead him to his car, “Wow, I love your car! Impala right? Sixty…”

“Sixty-seven,” Dean finished, beaming back at his date, “thanks! It used to be my dads but he gave it to me when I got my license. Only car I’ve ever driven, but I wouldn’t ever choose another.”

“It’s fantastic!” He replied. 

Dean opened the passenger door for Castiel, then shut it gently before making his way to the driver’s side. In under a minute they were off to their dinner reservation. The ride was extremely short, but the conversation on the way had given Dean the chance to learn that his date’s last name was Novak, his favorite color was purple, and that he did not, in fact, have a friend that collects Beatles’ records. 

When Dean put his car in park, Castiel looked out through the window to see where they were at.

“The Roadhouse?” He asked, his voice a register higher than it had been a moment before. He clearly was not trying not to offend Dean, but was puzzled as to why he had worn semi-formal dress to a casual bar/restaurant. 

“You’ll see,” Dean just laughed in a sing-songy voice as he jogged to the passenger door to open it for Castiel.   
Castiel tentatively exited the car, and followed just behind Dean until he saw it. On the patio in front of The Roadhouse, there was one table covered in a white tablecloth with three candles in the center. Overhead there were twinkly lights. And the menus, unlike the normal laminated paper ones, were bound in a leather-like material with something etched on the front, which weren’t entirely visible because napkins sat of top of the menus which were folded into the shape of swans. 

Castiel was speechless. He turned toward Dean, and the biggest smile spread across his face, which made Dean’s own smile grow even wider.

“I can’t believe you went through all of this trouble for me! O-on a first date no less!”

“Well, apparently I really wanted to make an impression… now don’t go expecting this on every date,” Dean teases chuckling.

When they reached the table, Dean pulled out a chair for Castiel, and then proceeded on to sit in his own. Moments later, Jo appeared, dressed like a waiter in a formal restaurant, complete with a bow tie and a napkin draped over her arm.

“Can I get you boys started with something to drink?” She asked in a part-British, part-French, and part… possibly Russian, accent.

They both laughed, “We will have your establishment’s finest wine please,” Dean responded, trying out his own silly accent as he did so.

Jo winked as she walked back indoors, leaving the two men chuckling and sharing some lighthearted conversation.   
The two sat for hours talking and eating and laughing. There was never a dull moment, and in such a short time they had made it through a variety of different topics. At one point the topic came around to the cookies Dean had baked a few days prior.

“So why don’t you work in a bakery?” Castiel asked, “clearly you’re talented, I’m surprised you don’t own your own bakery let alone work in one.”

“Oh, you know, family business and all. Plus I’ve got an audience for my baking… when we get customers they seem to rather enjoy it, I’ve got Ellen and Jo who I brought two whole batches of cookies to the other day. Now I’ve got you, if you’re interested in being a guinea pig for my baking.”

Castiel laughed, “I am definitely more than willing to be a baking guinea pig.”

“Good,” Dean smiled at the confirmation that he would be seeing this man for more than just tonight, “so what do you do for a living?”

“Ah, funny thing, I’m kind of in a family business as well… I co-own a couple of businesses with my siblings, they basically run the place and I do all the behind the scenes work, ya know, numbers and all that boring stuff. I really enjoy it though, it pays well and I don’t have to be out there interacting with people all the time.”

“That sounds really amazing! Which places? I grew up here so I’ve probably heard of them.”

“Well, they haven’t been open that long… we all moved here a few years ago, well, me and my brothers that is, they run the Brothers’ Bar over on Arch street, and my sister Lucie moved here last year with her new husband Crowley and they started up this place called Devil’s Diner on the other side of town.”

“Oh I know both of those places, I can’t say I’ve been to the Brothers’ Bar, but I do know where it is, my Dad’s been there a few times I know with my uncle Bobby. And the diner I know because it’s only a few blocks away from my family’s shop, and I remember driving by all the construction last year.”

“Yep. Those are the places.”

“What made you and your family decide to move here of all places if you don’t mind my asking, it’s not exactly a place someone says ‘oh I’ve always wanted to move there’ if you know what I mean.”  
Castiel paused a second before responding, clearly a little uncomfortable with the topic, “Um, well, my mom died a few years back, and my dad, well, was never in the picture. Me and my brothers just wanted a change in scenery and cost-wise this city was in our budget to launch a business. It also had one of the best school districts and lowest crime-rates in the state, so a great place to raise a family…” 

“Oh, I’m sorry about your mom. I guess you’re right though, it is a really good place to raise a family, I mean my brother and I grew up here and we seemed to turn out okay,” Dean chuckled a bit.

The conversation soon shifted once again, but never dulled for the rest of the evening. Then, after Dean had paid the bill, it was time for the two meet to call it a night. The two were very tired, and the trip back to Castiel’s house was relatively quiet as the speed at which each of them spoke slowed and the tone softened.   
When they arrived at their destination, Dean walked his date to the door. 

“I had a great time,” Dean said the corner of his mouth turning up gently at the end of his statement.

“Me too,” Castiel replied.

The two let the words linger in the air for a few moments before they both simultaneously began to lean in towards one another. And just like that they were locked in a kiss. 

They were suspended in a moment, but just as it had come it was gone.

“I hope to see you again soon Castiel Novak” Dean breathed softly, beaming.

“You most definitely will Dean Winchester,” Castiel replied, blushing a little, but also beaming. 

And with that the two parted ways, a perfect end to a perfect evening.


	8. The Bar

“You seem unusually happy today Dean,” John Winchester casually commented to his son shortly after arriving at the family shop. It was the early afternoon, and per their usual schedule, Dean worked Saturday mornings, and John would come in around noon to work the rest of the day.

“Nope. Not really,” Dean replied nervously, paling a little.

“Okay,” his dad huffed simply.

Dean then packed up and headed out the door. He hopped in his car and just sat for a few moments, deciding where he wanted to go. Most Saturday afternoons he’d go home and bake. Once in a while he would just take a drive up the coast and back. Other times, if he were hungry, he’d head straight to Ellen and Jo’s. 

Today, Dean decided to be spontaneous. He decided to take a trip to the Brothers’ Bar. It was a short trip, which disappointed Dean a bit, since he loved taking Baby on long adventures. He was excited, though, for some reason, to see Castiel’s family business. It seemed only reasonable to Dean, since Castiel had already been to the Winchester family business on more than one occasion. 

When he walked in, the bar was nothing like he expected. It was, well, a bar. There was music blaring, there were rowdy people everywhere having overly enthusiastic conversations, the lighting was extremely harsh. This didn’t really seem like a “Castiel” kind of place. Dean couldn’t really figure out why, but he was expecting a different atmosphere, he just couldn't picture Castiel comfortable at a place like this. 

Since it was still early, there were plenty of seats open. He sat as far away from everyone as he possibly could, meaning he took a stool all the way at the end of the bar opposite from where he entered. 

“What can I get you started with?” a tall, dark-haired man asked. He had a kind face, and looked remarkably like a younger version of Dean’s father.   
“Just a beer,” Dean stated, glancing at the bartender’s name tag, which read ‘Mike.’

The man casually slid a beer into Dean’s hand, “You look kind of familiar, you been here before?”

“Nope.”

“I swear I know you from somewhere…” he trailed off, awkwardly scanning Dean’s face. Dean quickly broke eye contact with Castiel’s brother and came up with a possible explanation.

“My dad’s been in here a few times before, John, maybe you know me through him?”

“Do you know how many people by the name of John we get in here?” He smiled sarcastically, “Give me a last name.”

Dean squirmed a little bit, he never really intended to give away his identity, “Um, Winchester.”

“Nope. I’d remember that last name. Nevermind, I’m probably freaking you out, I’ll stop trying to place you. My youngest brother is always telling me that someday I’m gonna lose business over scaring somebody off with unwanted conversation.”

Dean laughed nervously.

“Wait! That’s it! Winchester, Dean Winchester, yes?”

“Uh yep that’s me.”

“You’re the guy Castiel’s been going on about for the last week. He said he’d met this nice guy who worked a few streets away, and you look exactly like he described. Never mentioned a last name, but said you’d met when he went shopping for a replacement clock for his house. Only one place in town to get a clock like that. It was my fault it broke in the first place. I had a party at his house when he was out of town, got a little out of hand. He insisted he needed a specific kind of clock, though, so he went to get it himself. Ever since, he’s been talking nonstop about you. He was so excited when you asked him out. He must’ve tried on 20 different ties before your date last night, he video chatted me for like an hour asking me to help pick out the perfect one. I’ve never seen him like this before-- He’s going to kill me now that I’ve told you that, though.”

Dean chuckled, beginning to adapt to Castiel’s brother, “That’s alright, I’ll keep it between us.”

“So what brings you to this place? Are you meeting Castiel for another date?”

“No, actually, though I do intend to call him when I get back home. He mentioned helping run this place, and your sister’s diner, so I wanted to come check it out. It seems silly, I know,” Dean blushed a little, glancing down at his beer.

Michael smiled widely, eyes glowing, “You really like my brother, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Dean admitted shyly.

“Well that’s good, because he really seems to like you too.”

“Really?” Dean said, barely able to control his grin.

“Yeah,” Michael beamed back, then his smile faded into a more serious expression, “and since you wandered in here, you are now in for the big brother lecture. So here it is: my baby brother is something special, he always has been. He’s brilliant and kind, and loyal to a fault. So if you really like him, that’s fantastic, but I must tell you that he is a relationship kind of guy. If that’s not what you’re looking for then you’re with the wrong guy. If you are that’s great, then comes the second part of my speech: don’t you dare do anything to hurt him--”

“I would never hurt him,” Dean interrupted, “he is something special. That’s why I asked him out in the first place. I’ve never been a relationship person, but he is the first person who has made me think I am ready to have that.”

“Okay,” Michael replied skeptically, “I hope you’re certain. Because if you break his heart…”

“I am certain, and to prove it I’m going to go home right now and see if he is available for another date on Monday,” Dean pulled out money to pay for his beer.

“Better make it Tuesday, he stays late at the diner on Mondays to have dinner with our sister.”

“Alright, I’ll make a mental note of that, Tuesday it is!”

With that Dean left the bar, dialing Castiel’s number as he went.


	9. The Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I accidentally double-published a chapter, sorry about that! Here is the actual ninth chapter. Also, I wrote this years ago... I just never finished the story which is why I'm publishing it again chapter by chapter, so that's why the references are a bit dated

“So I heard you met Michael,” Castiel began from the passenger seat of the Impala, shortly after Dean had picked him up for their second date.

“Yeah…” Dean couldn’t tell by Castiel’s tone whether or not he was mad that he had gone over to the Brother’s Bar. He didn’t really know why he would be, but at the same time it felt like he had unintentionally forced the whole ‘meeting the family’ bit of the relationship. 

“I also heard he gave you the big brother lecture,” he chuckled a bit.

“Yep,” Dean tried to reply as casually as possible, emphasizing the ‘p.’

“Frankly, I’m a little surprised you called me so soon after meeting him. Hopefully he didn’t intimidate you too much… he can be kind of scary sometimes, or just kind of blunt.”

“I wouldn’t really use intimidating to describe him,” Dean began cautiously, “protective, maybe, you can tell that he really loves you,” he smiled as he finished.

“That he does, he makes a point to show it too, he’s good like that. Sometimes, though,” a playful smile stretched across Castiel’s face, “he gives me ‘big brotherly’ lectures and will prattle on and on… but his heart is always in the right place.”

“He does seem talkative,” Dean agreed.

“Yeah…” There was a lull, and then Castiel had a realization, “Oh my gosh, you didn’t meet Gabriel while you were there did you?”

“No, why?”

“Because then you surely would have run away screaming.”

Dean started cracking up at how serious Castiel looked when he said that. His date looked kind of confused as to why he was laughing, but then his expression softened and he just sat there, watching Dean. Then, the car ride became a quiet one, until they got to their destination. It wasn’t an awkward silence, moreso a contented silence.

They arrived at their destination, which, this time, Castiel was informed of beforehand. Dean parked the car, and went around the passenger side to open the door for Castiel.

“Well, you ready for this Cas?” Dean asked, “You can still back out if you want to.”

“Since when do you call me Cas?”

“Oh sorry, um…”

“No it’s fine,” he smiled reassuringly, “Nobody’s called me Cas since I was in grade school, my brothers used to call me that when they wanted something or when they were mad at me. I like the way you say it though, gives it a more positive connotation.”

“Alright,” Dean grabbed at Castiel’s hand, and their fingers intertwined, “you ready for this Cas?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Because we could always do something else, come back another day.”

“No,” Castiel sighed, “let’s get it over with, I don’t want to wait much longer to watch it. I don’t want the internet ruining it for me.”

“Understandable,” the two of them walked up to the window of the theater, “two tickets for Infinity War please.”

The two of them sat through the entire movie, on the edge of their seat practically the entire time. Dean just sat with his hand over his mouth the whole time, grabbing for Cas’ hand now and again. He glanced over at his date a few times, and could clearly see tears running down his face on multiple occasions. When it was over, the two just sat there.

“No!” Castiel was the first to speak, “I’m not okay with this.”

Dean didn’t really know what to say, “That was…”

“I know!” Castiel almost screamed in response.

“What was--” he stopped, not really knowing how to conclude the sentence.

“I don’t know!”

The pair were part of the last group to walk out of the theater. They were silent until they got back to the car.

Dean spoke first this time, “That one scene at the beginning when--”

“Don’t bring that up,” Castiel pleaded.

“Okay,” Dean agreed, also not wanting to relive that particular part of the movie, “that was not at all what I was expecting, I mean I don’t follow everything as closely as you do but…”

“No, that was not what I was expecting at all either,” his voice was more aggressive than Dean had ever heard it before.

They didn’t say much more on the drive back to Castiel’s house. A few more complaints, most of which came out in unintelligible noises of frustration. Despite their discontentment, however, their night still ended up with a goodbye kiss and plans to see each other the following week. 

Dean went home full of emotions, which he decided to put into his baking, since he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anytime soon. He premade a pie for himself to throw in the oven the next day, and then decided to get ready for bed. He had just fallen into a deep sleep when something pulled him back into consciousness, something that didn’t seem to belong in the dreamworld. It was faint at first, but then it started to become more clear, it was a noise.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.


	10. Unexpected Event

“Sammy,” Dean heard himself mumble as he sat up abruptly in bed. His heart pounded in his chest, the smell of smoke growing thicker by the second. Every fire alarm in the building was screaming. Dean couldn’t think, he just froze, he felt as if he were four years old again. 

“Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Now Dean! Go!” He could hear his father’s voice, he could feel his little brother in his arms. 

Reality set in again when Dean could hear the crackle of the flames on the opposite side of his apartment, he had to get out of the building immediately. He grabbed a small box from the drawer of his bedside table, and dashed out his door, not bothering to lock it. 

He reached the bottom floor to find all his neighbors gathered in one large group, obviously confused and tired. He could hear sirens blaring in unison as three large fire trucks arrived on the scene. Dean looked at his watch, which read 3:04 AM. Dean decided it was too early to socialize and he really didn’t feel like answering any questions about the fire (there were plenty of people there to do that), so he hopped in his car and took off. He didn’t have a particular destination, and he really shouldn’t have been at the wheel with so little sleep, but his adrenaline was pumping, so a drive seemed to Dean like the best way to calm himself down.

He drove in circles for about an hour, and then put his car in park in the Roadhouse lot. The Roadhouse didn’t open until six on Wednesdays, but Dean felt safe here, safe enough to rest his eyes, just for a moment…

Dean woke up to a confused Jo tapping lightly on Baby’s driver’s side window. She made a hand motion asking Dean to roll down his window. He quickly fumbled for the button so that he could do so.

“What are you doing here?” Jo asked, using a tone not of concern, but rather irritation in her voice.

Dean glanced at his clock to see how long he had slept, “What are you doing here so early? You don’t open for another hour.”

“It’s quiet and peaceful in the mornings before we open, gives me some space to think and have a cup of coffee before I start my day. Come inside, I’ll show you.”

Dean exited his car and followed Jo into The Roadhouse. She made a pot of coffee and poured them each a cup, then her posture became relaxed and inquisitive as she leaned her elbows on the counter.

“So,” she pressed, “why are you here so early?”

“There was a fire,” Dean started, “at my apartment building. I don’t know all the details, I don’t know where the fire started, but I could smell it from my room. I then left the building, walked down the stairs, got into my car, and came here.”

“Did anyone call the fire station?”

“Yes, obviously I wouldn’t have left if they weren’t already on their way, a group of my neighbors were already on it.”

“I’m sorry… that’s a very traumatic morning. I hope your building isn’t too terribly damaged, but the most important thing is that you are okay.”

“I am,” Dean agreed, not sounding the least bit convincing.

“Something else is wrong,” Jo sensed, “what is it?”

Dean really didn’t feel like sharing, but he knew she would pry the information out of him eventually anyway. Besides, he trusted her almost more than he trusted his own brother, “It’s nothing, really, just brought up some unpleasant memories, that’s all. Me and Sam, we lost our mom in a fire when we were little. He doesn’t remember, which is for the best, he was only 6 months old at the time.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” she sighed sadly.

“It’s fine, not many people do. I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“Well, I think such a rough morning calls for a well deserved breakfast pie, what do you say?”

“You’re funny if you think I’m going to turn down pie!” Dean teased, his tone trying to convince himself more than Jo that he was fine.

Jo retrieved a day-old pie from the back, served herself a small slice, and handed the rest to Dean.

“You know me well,” he said, more sincerely playful this time.

“Yes I do,” Jo retorted, “feel free to hang out as long as you want. Wednesdays tend to be slow anyway, I wouldn’t mind having someone to chat with when I’m absolutely bored out of my mind during lulls.”

“As fun as that sounds, I have to get to work relatively soon,” Dean sighed.

“Why don’t you just call your dad and tell him your apartment caught fire? He seems like a reasonable guy, I bet he’ll give you the day off.”

“Nah, I can still work today, I’m fine. Besides, I got a day off last week. My dad works really hard at that shop and I really don’t like to take time off if I don’t have to.”

“Yeah but you work really hard at that shop too, and you’ve had a really hectic morning. Take the day off.”

Dean groaned a little bit, but at the same time felt appreciative that she cared, “I’ve gotta go to work Jo. I’ll come back for dinner tonight though, give you an update on the apartment situation.”

“Dean?” She asked as he got up to go.

“Yeah?”

“If you can’t stay in your apartment, or even if you don’t want to for any reason, you let me know okay? You can always crash at my place for a little while.”

“Thanks Jo, I really appreciate it, but I’m fine. If I can’t go back today I’ll just stay at a hotel, no big deal.”

“Okay.”

Dean left The Roadhouse, drove around a bit more in his Baby, then eventually went to work, carrying on as if his morning had been just like any other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp I thought I was going to be able to post on this fic more often, apologies for the delay. Life's been busy. Hope everyone seeing this message is doing well, sending happy thoughts to y'all during these strange times we live in. Will post again when I can.


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